


I Was Wrong

by 1bluedancer1



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1bluedancer1/pseuds/1bluedancer1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Mystrade tale!</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was Wrong

~I knew he wasn't dead, but it was still my fault that he was gone, and as much as I hate him, he's my brother. So I'm taking it upon myself to clear his name, and mine. First step, kill writer? No, suspicion, abduct? Yes, they can't say anything if they're dead...~  
My thought were interrupted by a knock at my door. "Come in." I said as I swiveled my chair around to face the person entering. "Ah, Lestrade, what are you doing here? Lunch isn't for another." I paused and glanced at my watch. It was noon. "I'm so sorry it must have slipped my mind please come in and sit down." He sat in the chair across from me and opened the bag of food that he had brought.  
"You won't forget about dinner will you?" he asked staring at me with that damn look in his eyes.  
"Of course not, we're eating in again tonight right?" I inquired as he passed me a sandwich and drink. At this he blushed and nodded. "I might be a little late though, I'm doing a little digging into the events leading up to Sherlock's... death." I told him.  
"Any progress?" he asked me.  
"Not so far, I'm planning on abducting a person of too though so I wanted to make sure that wasn't your division. I was also planning on interrogating some people, but it's nothing really important." I told him  
"Well if you ever need help, you have my number." he reminded me.  
"Speed dial." I told him winking.  
Our lunch lasted a full hour, but for the last 15 minutes we did something other than eat. When we had... finished, I helped Lestrade put his tie back on and kissed him goodbye. Then I went back to my digging. I emailed a couple people about the phone call John had told me about and was just getting some answers.   
"Interesting," I said aloud. The results showed that the phone Sherlock had been using was being tapped by multiple people. After a little more research I found that the people who were tapping the phone were all the assassins that had moved in with Sherlock at that time.  
"Jack," I said into my cell phone "I need you to find some people for me..." I told Jack (My secretary) who he was looking for, who to give them to and when I would need them. Now that I had that done I moved on to the writer, who was coming to see me in a couple minutes. I called a different person I knew and instructed them to put a black bag over her head and shake her up a little before letting her come in.  
She was thrust through the doors and fell upon her knees with her head bent, Lestrade came to mind but quickly left. The man behind her ripped off the bag and left as I approached her.   
"Ah I see my friend was a little rougher than intended with you Ms. Riley. Do you want me to cut those dreadful things off your wrists?" I asked in a normal voice, mostly to annoy her.  
"What in the bloody hell am I doing here?" She screamed at me, there was a lot of panic in her eyes but she tried extremely hard to hide it.  
"I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer them. Now have you ever heard of a man called Moriarty..."  
The interrogation lasted many long hours. Every time she lied or didn't answer I would call my friend in and she would get slapped until I was satisfied with the answer. I was on my way home to have dinner with Lestrade, but I had to make a stop first, to drop off the body.  
I walked through the door and found Lestrade waiting for me. As I removed my coat and set down my umbrela he kissed me and said dinner was ready. It was delicious, hand made by him.   
"You know you didn't have to go through all that trouble." I told him as we washed the dishes.  
"What? You didn't like it?" he asked as he stared at me with a questioning look.  
"You know I didn't say that," I said leaning in and kissing him, "I just meant you didn't have to go to the trouble of cooking for me, it was nice though, thank you."  
"Your welcome, and I have one other thing for you." he said reaching for my hand and leading me to the bedroom. I slammed the door closed as Lestrade began removing my clothes. It was a very LONG night, for the both of us.  
After many months of digging, searching, and killing I had finally cleared Sherlock (and my) name. All I had left to do was tell John. So I text him;  
“Have news on Sherly that you might want to hear ~M” it read.  
I was standing behind a chair with my back to him when he entered the room. He coughed gently to tell me he was in the room.  
“I knew you were there, no need to cough.” I told him as I turned to face him.  
“Fine,” he told me, “What did you call me here to tell me this time?” I motioned for him to sit across from me but he continued to stand.  
“You, of course, remember when my...” I caught myself “Sherlock, jumped off the roof of that hospital. None of us could ever forget, but what I didn’t know until a couple months ago was that the phone Sherlock called you on, since it was not his, was tapped. I have spent the last few months tracking and interrogating all the people who tapped that phone, and I have some information that you, of all people, need to know.” As he said this he handed me a folder, inside were pictures of all the assassins that used to be my neighbors.  
“What do they have to do with Sherlock’s... death?” he asked, stumbling on death.  
“Each and everyone of these men were tapping the phone and were waiting near each of you at the time of the call. Moriarty had each one of them under the instructions to kill you, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade, if Sherlock did not jump.” I said, looking at him coldly. “I am not the sole reason for my brother’s death and therefore would like to ask for at least some acknowledgement of that fact, please.” my face softened as I said this last bit.  
“Mycroft, you were right in assuming that I blamed you, I did and still partially do, I cannot forgive you though for something that you did not do. You apologizing will not bring Sherlock back and until that time I will continue to hold you partially responsible for his death, now if you don’t mind I must be getting back to the flat.” he turned to leave when I called out to him.  
“John?” my voice making him pause momentarily, yet he kept hi back turned, “Who do you think has been paying Sherlock’s part of the rent?” After hearing my question he continued to walk away and did not look back.  
I called Lestrade and told him of what I had done, and that by the end of the week he should expect Sherlock to show up at the yard. Then I waited.  
The door clicked open quietly as he approached my chair, which out of habit, was turned away from the door.  
"I could hear you breathing outside the door you know." I told Sherlock as he sat in the chair across from me.  
"Yes, but I'm only here to tell you that you're wrong." he said, obviously trying to get me to bite. "Emotions are not a weakness." he then got up and went to leave but I still got the last word in.  
"I know." I said, thinking of Lestrade "I know." I repeated softly to myself as he clicked the door closed.


End file.
